Washed In With the Rain
by h2okitty
Summary: When a stray cat gets picked up on a day-to-day basis, nobody ever takes notice, but when a certain blue cat finds itself drawn to Hinamori Amu's door as if by feline intuition, what can happen? Will they give each other purpose in a dreary life? AMUTO
1. Chapter 1

**Hey guys! So, this is a story with a admittedly used beginning, but I promise that the plot will be different, and I will not steal anyone's ideas (I think haha).**

**I DO NOT OWN SHUGO CHARA (though like most of you I wish I did) or TEENAGE MUTANT NINJA TURTLES!**

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><p><em>Prologue<em>

_Everyone in life has something to stand for because without it… we are lost. That second part related to myself pretty darn well, I think. The rain was falling in sheets outside my bedroom window. It was one of those nights you just don't expect anything to happen; nonetheless something exciting, but I guess this wasn't what normal people thought of as "exciting"._

Chapter: The first

Pink Floyd was raging on in my bedroom as I sat on the bed with a magazine flipped open to the latest gossip, though I really don't like gossip at all. The parents were finally out of the house for a weekend leaving me alone with some television, food, and wicked weather. I don't mind rain at all actually. It makes me want to curl up in a warm place with a warm chocolate donut and a cool glass of milk while watching it splatter on the window panes and listening to the rhythmic pattering on the roof panels.

My name is Amu Hinamori, and I am officially bored on a Friday because despite what my "parents" may think, I am a good girl. It has only been about two hours since my parents left, and I have already grown bored with my home-alone situation. Most teenagers would do something fun, right? I honestly don't know. I'm not necessarily the in-the-know type of person if you get what I mean. Better said—I'm pretty much a loser at school. It's not that I'm hideous or nerdy or even awkward to be around, it's just that I have a slight attitude when it comes to people. My parents think I'm "rebellious". Pssh. I get straight A's (though my teachers all think I copy or cheat or something viciously naughty like that) and I'm in honors courses.

I really can't help it that I'm sassy to people when I first meet them. It's a sort of defense mechanism that happens when I'm feeling really shy, which is basically all the time. Plus, I don't take compliments well either. Unfortunately, that means that the people usually don't get to know me well enough to find out that I'm really not stuck-up.

There's nothing on the TV, and gossip doesn't really tickle my fancy, but food was already vetoed when I saw what my step-parents had left me growing in the Tupperware. Yes, I did say step-parents. I have two. Sob story is, my mom and dad divorced when I was three months old, mom died of liver failure and dad remarried—hence the step-mom, but shortly after their cheesy little wedding that happened while I was at school, dad took ill and eventually he too died of food poisoning (yes, food poisoning. Lame, right?) so the step-thing married another guy and I wound up with a step-thing one and a step-thing two who somehow magically got custody of me because my dad had a will. How dumb. Who leaves their daughter with their second wife?

Anyways, the step-things, as I prefer to call them, are terrors. They don't like me and I sure as heck do not like them. For all I care they could bungee jump off a bridge without a bungee chord. I'm patiently waiting for my high school days to end so I can leave and book it to some prestigious college, even though I don't know what I want to be yet. I'm only a junior though, so I've got quite a while to go.

The only relief I get from them is school—which kinda sucks—and whenever I visit my relatives. My mom's side of the family lives across the country in Oregon, so I rarely see them except for holidays, but my dad's side of the family thinks my dad was a half-wit and try to spoil me as much as they can. Truthfully, I'm really only myself when I'm alone or with them. In particular, I have an aunt who's pretty up there in years, but she could beat me physically in just about anything. I call her Aunt Jemimah, like the syrup. That's her middle name, but she prefers it to her given name Wilhelmina.

Contrary to her name, she's not very sweet to anyone but me and that's just what I like about her. She completely agrees with me on my dislike of my step-things. She's tried to get custody of me before, but it didn't go over very well. Luckily, she lives about an hour away so I can always count on her to have my back in a fair amount of time if I ever desperately need her. It's nice to at least have someone on my side.

Sorry, back to right now. So, lately I've been hearing this scratching sound coming from outside whenever it's quiet enough to hear anything, like when I'm in bed and my imagination is trying to convince me that the boogeyman is trying to claw through my window and eat me. So far, I haven't worked up enough courage to peek outside and see what it is, but now with my music turned off, it's the second night in a row I've heard the little clawing at the front door. I'm gonna do it eventually, but suppose it's a trap and there's some serial killer outside lurking in the bushes scratching on the door!

While my thoughts begin to take me into other perilous events, the scratching stops and I take notice immediately. Pausing my mind, I listen carefully to the door for any other sounds besides the rain, and much to my surprise, I hear a soft "mew". With wide eyes, I rushed to the front door, halting only momentarily to consider that it might be a trap, and then I opened the door and scanned the porch in the light of the overcast day. Sitting on its haunches with a thin tail lying dejectedly on the ground curled around it's two front feet, the tiny navy blue and black spotted cat looked up at me through soaking wet fur, and I felt shame wash over me at the thought that it had had to wait out in the pouring rain for two days in a row for me to finally get over myself long enough to check it out.

Still staring at the poor creature, it let out a shiver followed swiftly by a cute sneeze. I crouched down in front of it and tentatively held out my hand, but it stayed where it was until I slowly reached over and picked it up around the belly holding it close to my chest in case it freaked out and tried to get out of my grasp. It didn't. I walked to my bathroom and took out a large fluffy towel while setting the cat on the toilet seat and began to rub it dry. As I was rubbing it dry, I noticed that it only stared at me with curious feline eyes instead of the expected purring.

Thinking to myself, I grabbed the blow-dryer from the cabinet and plugged it in. Looking back at the cat as if for permission, it blinked slowly at me and I began to blow dry the feline off. I assumed that it was a he when I blow dried the cat's underbelly and found proof of gender. That discovery kinda made my face heat up even though he was still just a cat. His fur was a silky texture, but the odd black markings on the navy colored cat had me wondering. The black spots included all of his hind area minus his back paws and his tail and stopped half way up the torso. In a disturbing way, this cat looked like it was wearing pants.

I had finally stopped blow drying the cat and he looked pleased and warmer now. I sat down on the edge of the bathtub next to the toilet and just gazed at him for a while. He was a beautiful cat. I couldn't believe a cat this magnificent and tame would just be wandering the streets. Its owners—if it has any, that is—must be worried sick. Most likely, this was some spoiled kitty that was pampered and loved on by filthy rich folks and won prizes for best in show and things related to that. The thought of this cat being happier than a human, maybe like me, almost aggravated me, but half way through that thought, I stole a glance at the cat and its eyes seemed so sadly humble, I couldn't imagine this cat with such a glamorous life anymore.

Pity flooded my heart, and in a random gesture of the kindness people think me devoid of, I picked up the questioning cat and folded him in my arms in an apologetic embrace. The cat stiffened as if it knew this was an awkward moment, but a moment later it rested its head in the crook of my neck and resigned to the hug quietly. I pulled it back and raised it in the air under the front legs and just looked at him as if seeing him really for the first time. I smiled for the first time in a while for the finally purring cat in my hands.

We made our way to my bedroom with me leading the way and the man of the house on my heels. I chuckled slightly at my perceived notion of the newest figure in the house, but I stopped when I realized that he would have to return to where he came from too soon. We reached my room towards the back of the house and I sat down on my bed, motioning for him to do the same. He obliged to my request gracefully, landing with a small "frump" near my crossed legs. He lay down with his blue-almost-violet eyes peering into mine intently as if he was assessing me. The possibility of a cat examining me made me just a bit nervous and I scratched my arm as an awkward habit.

I jumped when he meowed at me, reminding me to focus I bet. He needed a name.

"You need a name," I blurted out.

He casually responded with a blink and I took that as an okay to find him a name. They say naming animals you aren't planning on keeping creates an attachment, and the more I thought about it the more I thought it would probably turn out to be true, but I had to call it something other than "he" and "the cat".

"How do you like Donatello?" I asked tactfully. He responded with what seemed to be an eyebrow quirk, but for a cat that's impossible so I brushed it off.

"Okay, so Leonardo?" Another no I guessed, "Michelangelo?"

"Why don't you try a name that's not from Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles", came a voice.

I. Freaked. Out. I twisted and turned and quickly looked under my bed and sneakily shot a glance out my window only to find not a soul. My heart was racing and I was panicking obviously whereas the cat just lay there completely at ease with my apparent discomfort. Wait. I looked back to the bed and my mouth fell open. IT couldn't have possibly been…

"Are you okay? You seem a bit perturbed", said THE CAT.

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><p><strong>So, this is my first fanfic so constructive criticism is always appreciated. I will try to update every two weeks at the latest, so expect chapter 2 soon! Review if you want ^-^<strong>


	2. Chapter 2

**Hey guys, so I'm sorry about that mistake I made of uploading the wrong story. I had meant to put this one up but I didn't, so...haha forgive me? Please? Anyways, here it is though it took forever enough. **

**I DO NOT OWN SHUGO CHARA!**

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><p>Flashback: <em>My heart was racing and I was panicking obviously whereas the cat just lay there completely at ease with my apparent discomfort. Wait. I looked back to the bed and my mouth fell open. It couldn't have possibly been…<em>

"_Are you okay? You seem a bit perturbed", said THE CAT. _

Chapter 2

So, oddly my new companion can speak, and of the million things racing through my mind right now, the first thing out of my mouth was a stereotypical,

"Perturbed? Isn't that a bit nerdy for a cat?"

He shot me one of those are-you-stupid-or-something looks and all the blood in my body flooded my face right then. I sighed, trying to calm myself down and fix my stupid red face, but of course me being me, I just couldn't. I averted my eyes until I felt a soft pawing at my thigh. With a dramatic sigh, I chanced a glance towards the feline, but when I did I found my eyes rooted to his sapphire orbs that sparkled with an inner light that I don't think I've ever had. The melancholy once again took control of me and with a hesitant hand, I reached down and stroked his soft fur. All at once, the world was calm again.

"So if you would prefer, seeing as you can talk, why don't you just tell me your name if you have one?" I reasoned.

"Ikuto".

"Ikuto….no last name?"

"I'm a cat, what do you expect?" he shot back at me.

"Feisty kitty," I grumbled under my breath.

"Cute girl," he returned with what I think was an itty bitty kitty wink. With that the blood shot right back to my face.

"A-a-are you some sort of a p-pervert?" I yelled.

"Aww, I was just trying to be friendly…" he whispered with his ears flattened and his eyes downcast. Just a look at those eyes and I couldn't stay mad…until I saw his tail swishing back and forth happily behind him. I picked him up again underneath his arms and held him in front of my face.

"Are you always a cat?" I asked him with my eyes boring holes into his.

"Are you always a human?" he asked with a bored look on his face, and with a huff I released him onto the carpet. Flopping sideways on my bed, I asked probably another stupid question: "Why do you talk then?"

As he strolled around my room most likely scenting it (or is that dogs?), he gave me no reply. Now that I deemed suspicious.

"Have you always been able to talk?" I asked again.

"Have you always been able to talk?" he replied.

"URGH! Stop answering my questions with questions! You're like my therapist!" I burst.

"So you're that screwed up? Do you think your therapist takes feline patients?" he asked me. This kinda made me giggle so I let the screwed up comment slide.

"Ok, so you're a cat. And you can talk. And you need a therapist. Well okay then, we can work with that," I muttered but I think I was losing my mind. AHA! THAT WAS IT!

"You're not _real _are you? That makes SO much sense now…"

"I'm as real as Pink Floyd," he answered sardonically as he looked at my iPod sitting in the speaker on the floor. Well, assuming he's not lying and he's not from my imagination, I had NO idea what to do. My brain went into code clueless.

"Hey, I need your help with something," he startled me by saying suddenly.

"Huh?"

With a leap onto my bed he walked onto my legs and towards my torso where he put a fuzzy blue paw on my chest and pushed me back a bit so he could see me face to face. Searching my honey eyes with his azure ones, he said carefully and slowly, "I said: I need your help with something. Can you help me?" and with every word, the scent of…fish…swarmed over me. Admittedly not what I was expecting.

I pinched my face together and removed him from my face, trying to be nice since he obviously just asked me something he felt uncomfortable asking.

"Ok, so you need my help. With what?" I asked still breathing through my mouth to make sure that the fish smell wasn't lingering in my nostrils.

"I need to find a lock," was all he said and for the rest of the night, he refused to speak to me for some reason. As hard as I thought, I couldn't possibly narrow the choices down. Did he mean a lock like a safe? Did he want me to break in to somebody's house and steal a safe? No, he wouldn't ask me to do that. Was it a lock to a diary? Do cats keep diaries? No, that's stupid. Focus, Amu. Was it a bike lock? With a groan that did nothing to relieve my anxieties, I ruffled my pink hair and let my mind rest.

"Ne, Ikuto, since you're asking me for help shouldn't I at least know what kind of a lock I'm looking for?" I asked quietly towards his curled up figure at the foot of my bed.

His ears twitched a bit, but he still refused to answer me.

"Ikuto? Please…I wanna help you," I said, whispering the last part.

His ears twitched again and for a moment I thought he would answer me, but he stayed mute. I began to get up from my bed to do something—though I'm not sure what—when I heard his husky voice whisper into the bedcovers, "I'm sorry Amu. I wish I knew…"

My feet had paused in their path and I stayed staring at my door. I wanted to hug him, to comfort him in some way that would make that broken voice be whole again, but I didn't know how and I was afraid to even try for fear that I would only make it worse. So, instead I made my feet move again though it was obvious that they agreed with my heart that I should stay, and I closed the door silently behind me with a small 'click'.

A tiny tear slid down my cheek, and then came another and another and soon my cheeks were flooded with the little suckers. Years of holding them in, and one day a CAT comes in and they just start flowing like the dam's bust open.

I stayed like that for a little while until I heard a scratching sound at my bedroom door. I wiped the tears away and tried to wipe away the evidence of what I felt was a weakness. I opened the door and Ikuto came out silently and moved over to my legs. With a nudge of his head, he told me to come down so I knelt. He lifted his head and crawled quietly onto my knee halfway where I picked him up in my arms and held him to my shoulders. I held him for the comfort we both needed.

"Amu, we'll find it. I'm sure. Thank you," he whispered, and from then on I was finally given a purpose. I would help Ikuto find his lock, no matter the cost. No matter what.

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><p><strong>Thank you for reading! Review if you want! <strong>


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